


Dead Under

by Bellmaker



Category: Dawn of the Dead (1978), Day of the Dead (1985), Fear the Walking Dead (TV), Night of the Living Dead (1968), Original Work, The Day of the Triffids - John Wyndham, The Walking Dead (TV), World War Z - Max Brooks
Genre: Apocalypse, Gen, Horror, Multi, Post-Apocalypse, Pre-Zombie Apocalypse, Undead, Walkers (Walking Dead), Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:47:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24953269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bellmaker/pseuds/Bellmaker
Summary: A plague has swept the world and the dead are rising. Those that remain struggle to survive as society collapses around them.A multiple POV zombie story set in Australia. New chapter every Thursday.
Kudos: 9





	1. Adi 1

Adi dragged on his cigarette, the hot smoke filled his lungs, the clove filter left a sweet taste on his lips. He had quit but that seemed unimportant now that he had started to show symptoms. The power was out so he sat enjoying the moonlit rice fields from his balcony. It had been such a long time since he had done this. He sat deep in thought and looked back on his life. It wasn’t what he had dreamed it would be but on reflection he was happy.

Adi had finished his medical degree at a university in Jakarta. It was a requirement that all medical graduates do a volunteer year in a place of the governments choosing. This tiny village on the edge of the jungle was where they had put him. The adjustment had been hard at first, but the slow village lifestyle had grown on him and after a time the tight-knit community had accepted him.

Adi took another drag. The cloves crackled and popped as they burned. The tickle in his throat built. He blew out the smoke and began coughing. His cough was getting worse. He was almost certain he had caught the sickness too. At least the vomiting hadn’t started yet. He ashed his cigarette. There was no need to irritate his throat further. Five of his patients had already died and four more were in comas taking up the beds in his clinic. He had been following the news and was growing more worried daily. As far as he could tell it had all started here in his village. Then it had spread across Indonesia, and now he was seeing reports of it in other countries.

“Adi, have you been smoking again?” He heard his wife whisper from in the back door. His family had set him up with a politician’s daughter back in Jakarta. They had let their disappointment be known when he had married a village girl instead. They had liked his plan to stay on in the village even less.

“No,” he whispered, hoping not to wake the children. “What is it?”

“Agus called, there’s a problem and they need you in at the clinic, I think Patra’s been injured, he said to come quickly.” Her hair was a mess, and she wore one of his old shirts. To Adi, she was still just as beautiful after all these years.

Adi kicked his cigarette away, gave his wife a kiss, then got on his scooter and headed to the clinic. His little clinic wasn’t big enough to handle most of his patients now, so only those with the most serious conditions stayed under supervision. The rest he visited in their homes during the day. No one improved their conditions only got worse.

“How did that happen?” Adi asked, the wound on Patra’s arm looked bad, but it was hard to tell under the candlelight.

“One of the patients woke from her coma,” Agus said, not looking up from his work. “Something’s wrong with her.”

“She’s aggressive,” Patra said, wincing as Agus pulled a stitch tight. “I tried to calm her and she bit me, we have her restrained on the bed, I think she’s possessed.”

“It’s all because of those damn foreigners, they just couldn’t leave it be,” Agus said. Adi held his tongue. The villagers all believed in black magic and demons. There was no point arguing with them as he had learnt. “We warned them that something like this would happen.”

The ancient temple in the jungle featured in most of their ghost stories. A month ago Archaeologists had come to investigate, and Adi hadn’t heard the end of it since. Adi thought it was a brilliant idea. It would be a great tourist attraction once restored. The villagers however had been angry. Adi could tell that their anger hid their fear. Only a few weeks after they entered the temple, people started getting sick. Now the villagers all were sure a curse lay on the village.

“It’s probably delirium from the coma, I’ll go check in on her,” Adi said, heading in the direction on the rooms. “Once you’re cleaned up, go home Patra, I’ll cover the rest of tonight.”

“I’ll come when I’m done here,” Agus said.

Adi held a candle over the dim patient’s room, the light barely lit the long room. There was a strange smell in the room, he could smell feces and disinfectant but those he expected. It was something else strange, it smelled of like slightly sweet metal, it almost smelled like blood. A strange squelching noise came from the further end of the room and then something tore wetly.

He scanned the room with the candlelight. The first bed held the woman who had woken from her coma. She thrashed against her bonds. To his surprise, the next two beds lay empty. He moved through the darkness to the last bed. Two figures hunched over the patient laying in it. As the candlelight revealed them what he saw horrified him. One a man was ripping a sliver of flesh from the coma patient’s forearm with his teeth, the other a teenage girl pulled intestine from a gaping wound in the patient’s stomach and shoved them into her mouth. Worst of all, he could see the patient was moving. She was waking from her coma.

Adi stood in shock. He couldn’t understand what he was seeing. He tried to move or call out to Agus, but he just stood there. The two devouring poor coma patient seemed to lose interest in what they were doing and slowly turned to Adi. Their eyes were dull and their lips pulled back to bare their teeth. They let out a guttural moan and ambled slowly in his direction.

As they closed on him Adi snapped out of it and turned and ran crashing straight into Agus. They fell to the floor in an awkward pile. In his panic, Adi flailed to get himself untangled. A powerful hand clenched his upper arm. The hand gripped so hard, the nails dug into his arm. A sharp pain burned in his neck as someone fell on him and bit deep into his flesh. Adi realized he was screaming as he tried to roll and kick it off. He was almost free when the other grabbed him, pulling him back to the floor. He fought frantically as hands and teeth tore at him. Adi did not die easily.


	2. 2 - Audrey 1

Audrey's day had been rough, she woke up feeling unrested and she could feel a cold coming on. It had been there for a few days but it had only started to get bad today. Harry was out all day so she had no one to look after her. She sat in her comfy chair, knitting needles in hand. She had been sitting for a long time the television blaring noisily in the background. The gas fireplace had her the lounge room toasty warm. The house was finally as she liked it. It had taken her and Harry years of renovations to get it perfect now all she had to do was enjoy it. Now she was waiting for Harry to retire so that they could finally put the caravan sitting in the backyard to use.

The news came on cutting into the program she was watching. The main host sat at his deck his slicked back dark hair and too smooth face for his age stared into the camera. She had never liked this host, he was a smarmy know it all. He always felt the need to add his own silly opinions. A little banner crossed the bottom of the screen. It had breaking news in large red text. It annoyed her how much the media liked to dramatise things.

"This is channel nine and I'm Jonathan Walsman. We come to you with breaking news." The smarmy news presenter said "Reports of a flu like epidemic spreading like wildfire across Asia."This peaked Audrey's interest, Doreen and her kids just got back from Bali a couple of weeks ago.

"It is not known whether it has arrived in Australia yet. Anyone that has traveled to the affected countries recently are advised to see their doctor if any symptoms appear." He said "Now we'll cross to our in field reporter in Bali, Denpasar."

Audrey thought back to her back to her knitting circle last week. She had sat next to Doreen, and she looked a little sick and now that Audrey thought about it. Typical of her, this wasn't the first time Doreen had come in sick and given it to everybody. They had even shared a drink. She couldn't think what must have possessed her to allow that.

The news footage showed a hospital overflowing with sick patients. There was a medical expert being interviewed, it sounded serious. She had felt strange today, maybe it would be best to call Harry and get him to come home just in case.

She went to get up and was feeling light headed so she sat back down. It was probably nothing no need to bother Harry. She changed the channel and just watch her soap operas instead until she felt better.

She woke feeling worse. She didn't remember drifting off. Audrey's nose was stuffy, and a headache coming on. She stood up, and the room spun. It's nothing just a dizzy spell. She made her way to the phone in the kitchen and dialed her husbands office. Shed never got one of those mobile phones it had all seemed like too much effort and she had been sure they would never take off.

"Hello this is Harry Thompson how can I help you," he said in his silly formal tone.

"Its Audrey dear," she said.

"No I haven't forgotten, I have the shopping list right here on my desk." he said.

"No, no it's not that. I'm feeling dreadful, is there any chance you can come home early today? she said.

"Sorry Aud, I might have to work late tonight. We've got a lot on and Jeff already called in sick today." He said "I'll run past the chemist on the way home and get you something,"

"All right" she said.

She had known he wouldn't come home, but it still annoyed her.

"Go lie down and have a rest." He said "Call me if it gets any worse, Ok?"

"All right I will," she said.

Her stomach rumbled and standing made her feel worse so she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table stretching the corded phone over. She dialed Doreen's home phone just to see if she was actually sick.

"Hello?" came a mans voice from the other end of the line.

"Hi John, it's Audrey," She said "Is Doreen home?"

"Well she is, but she's come down with something," He said "She's resting now, I'll let her know you called when she wakes up."

She made her way back to the TV to finish her knitting but that awful feeling was gradually getting stronger. It felt like a flu was coming on. Audrey stood, she wanted to get a bucket and go lie in bed. A wave of nausea came over her. She threw up and felt a little better. At least it was on the tiles.

She headed towards the laundry to get some cleaning goods, she felt woozy as she walked and had to stabilize herself on the door frame. She didn't make it far. The nausea rose again and Audrey rushed to the kitchen sink. She vomited, the substance splattered into the sink. She gagged trying to get the thick mucus caught in her throat. It was a strange greenish color and didn't smell like regular acidic smell of vomit. she held onto the bench top and tried to calm her nerves and sank to her knees.

She knelt like that for what seemed like ages breathing heavy and waiting for her stomach to calm down.

She tried to stand and her stomach had that odd sensation again. She would call Harry again, she needed to get to a doctor. she clung to the bench top and struggled her way to the phone. Audrey started to throw up and sank to the floor. When her stomach calmed, she called Harry.

"Harry" she said with a sob.

"What? What is it?" he asked sounding worried. He must have heard it in her voice.

"I can't stop throwing up," she said through a groan "I think I need to go to the hospital.""I'm leaving now," he said "I'll be there as soon as I can."


	3. 3 - Lawrence 1

Lawrence stood and watched Dr. Patel pace while he thought. He was a short, balding man. His ring of silver hair contrasted with his rich dark skin. From all he had seen so far Dr Patel was a good doctor. He had only been on shift with Dr. Patel for three hours but he came with a good reputation.

The door to the small office swung open. A nurse he hadn't yet met burst in, she was flushed as though she had been running. She was in her early 20s and had her long dark hair tied back in a bun.

"There's another one" She said as she caught her breath.

"That's the seventh so far," Dr Patel said "correct?"

"Yes" She said. "we've moved the patient to level three."

"Good" He said.

Dr Patel rubbed his forehead looking out over the emergency room. Lawrence stood uncomfortable; he and the nurse exchanged a worried glance waiting for the doctor to say something. His first night was turning out to be way more than he had expected. He had worked outpatients, but that was nothing compared to the stress of tonight. This slowly developing crisis had everyone on edge.

"I need to call the Department of Health" Dr Patel said and begun walking out of the room "Lawrence take over my patients for me. Make sure to wear your isolation garb, we don't know if this is contagious yet. I'll send a nurse to relieve you when I need you."

The serious look set on Dr Patel's face as he left the room didn't help with Lawrence's uneasy feeling.

"This way Dr Nguyen." The nurse said turning and walking out of the room.Lawrence followed quickly behind her.

"Do you think it's that sickness from Asia," She asked walking briskly.

"I'm really not sure" He said hurrying to keep up.

They left the ER and followed the hallway to the lifts.

"So" She said looking up at him as they waited for the lift. She had a hint of a smile in her eyes and Lawrence noticed she was quite pretty "you're this new doctor everyone's been talking about?"

"Yeah, First night" he replied.

"Well don't you know how to pick them" She said "I'm Kim, looks like we'll be working together"

"Good evening Mrs Thompson" Kim said as she entered the room "This is Dr Nyugen he will be taking over treatment from Dr Patel, we need to give him some important information about your care if that's ok with you."

Mrs Thompson nodded her approval.

Lawrence looked over the groaning, sobbing woman. She looked terrible her eyes were swollen and red, mucus ran freely from her nose and her glands seemed swollen and inflamed. She had vomited all down her front, a thick green substance all symptoms linking her to other patients that had started coming in over the day. Nurse Kim handed him the patients chart and he quickly looked it over.

"This is Audrey Thompson," Kim said "She was admitted to emergency half an hour ago by her husband Harry. Her date of birth is the seventeenth of October 1961 making her 58 and she has no ongoing medical issues or medications. She has been unwell for two days, she had severe nausea and vomiting develop over the day. No treatment has begun yet."

"Hello Mrs Thompson" He said "do you have any questions about your treatment here?"

She groaned and her eyes took a moment to focus on him and finally, she spoke. "I've got a headache now."

"How long have you had it Mrs Thompson?" He asked.

She tried to speak then vomited noisily, the vomit, a thick pale green slime splattered to the ground.

"Can you please get us a sick bag" He asked the nurse Kim "now I'm going to give you a check-up."

He began to work, he kept talking to her as he checked her over, he always found these things wen't better if he could distract them. Kim returned with the bag for Mrs Thompson. Lawrence stepped over to talk with her.

"We're going to have to put her on an IV, she's dehydrated and by the looks of things and it doesn't look like she'll able to keep water down," He said. "Some pain killers for the headache once that's done."

Lawrence got the IV attached and Kim cleaned away the vomit.

"Is there anything I can get for you Mrs Thompson?" Kim asked.

She started to shake her head then changed her mind.

"Can I have some water to wash my mouth?" She asked.

Kim fetched a cup for her.

Dr Patel's second patient lay in his bed unresponsive as Kim ran through the handover. He was a man in his 40's who had come in with similar symptoms Mrs Thompson. He was the first. He then complained of a headache. Things had become serious when he developed a high fever and started to show signs of mental deterioration. Lawrence noticed the man had red marks on his skin that might indicate an infection. Lawrence began to inspect the marks as Kim read through the treatments he was on.

The door swung open and a nurse in isolation garb entered.

"Dr Nguyen?" She said. "Dr Patel is asking for you in his office."

Lawrence nodded to Kim and left the room and made his way towards Dr Patel's office. He walked the hallway dodging busy nurses and patients. This wasn't how he had thought his first shift would go. Maybe a broken arm or some deep cuts but really he had thought he would more or less just follow Dr Patel around and get a feel for the place. Ideas for the cause of this sudden outbreak ran through his mind, he thought most likely a dodgy restaurant was responsible. Food poisoning is usually the cause. He came to Dr Patel's office and he could see him on the phone through the small office window. Dr Patel hung up the phone and noticed Lawrence waiting, waving him in with a quick gesture.

"Dr?" He asked as let himself into the office.

"Well, it is worse than I had feared. We are not the first hospital to report this to the Department of Health. Six other hospitals in the area have reported similar issues." Dr Patel said.

"Is it contagious then?" Lawrence asked.

"Too early to tell, it certainly seems that way though, the blood-work results are still at least an hour off." Dr Patel responded "We need to isolate the affected patients and the hospital staff that have treated them. This is going to be a long night I am afraid."


	4. Glenn 1

Glenn had nodded off again, his cigarette had gone out in his hand. He sat slumped in the corner of the smoking area of the Garfield Street bar. His whole body ached, but he wouldn't have to wait for much longer. The tables were half full, most were in their mid-twenties. He sipped at his beer and counted his cigarettes. Only four left. Damn it, he'd need more smokes too. He re-lit the cigarette that had gone out. On re-lighting they always tasted worse.

He wondered how many were here to see him, no one had come over to chat. Not a great sign. He sat trying to make himself look normal, he hoped it was convincing. There was a group of young women talking at a table nearby. He eyed them trying to work out which he would have the best chance with. He didn't have the looks he had a year ago. He would just have to lay the charm on double thick, his music normally did most of the work anyway.

As he readied himself to go over, he noticed a waitress he hadn't seen before headed in his direction. She was plump but had a pretty face, she must be new he hadn't seen her before. Her hair was long and blonde, her skin freckled.

"Hey there, you on your break?" he said, putting on his most charming smile.

"No," she said in a thick European accent, he couldn't tell from where "Gavs waiting on you upstairs."

"Time for me to go on?" he said ashing out his smoke and getting up.

"Yeah like fifteen minutes ago, I'd hurry," She said "He's pissed."

"He'll be fine," Glenn said "Once I'm up on stage he'll calm him down."

He gave her a smile as he casually went back into the bar and headed up the stairs to a small waiting area that led into the concert hall. He had played here weekly for three months now. The owner Gav stood at the door to the green room. He was a good guy despite his temper, he put up with more shit than most.

"About time you showed," Gav said his big arms crossed frowning at Glenn. He had a shaved head and a thick beard. His big frame and tough guy act made him seem scarier than he was.

"How about I play an extra song to make it up," He said with a grin "your choice."

Gav just looked at him obviously not impressed. He used to get away with so much more before his cheeks hollowed out, and he had lost so much weight.

"Look this can't keep happening, I know you were, here you left your stuff in the green room, be up here on time next week." Gav said.

He really didn't need the whole half hour to set up, but Gav got all worked up when he didn't get there on time.

"Yeah sure thing Gav," Glenn said "well I've gotta get set up."

He went into the green room and got his stuff and took it out to the stage. He had done this enough times that it had all become routine. The music engineer here was good, so Glenn knew most of the work had already been done. He connected his guitar up to the amps and sat down to check the tuning. Got his pick and his harmonica out and was ready to play, five minutes early too. He noticed Gav was still standing there watching him."Geez mate," Gav said a tinge of worry in his voice "You're looking worse and worse every time I see you, You doing ok man?"


	5. Evi 1

"Hey," a voice said snapping Evi out of her thoughts, "don't let Gav catch you spacing out in here."

She looked around and saw Bill, he had been really nice going out of his way to get her used to the place. She had been spacing, just standing there caught up in the performance. She hadn't thought much of the musician when she found him in the smoking area but the guy could sing. It didn't hurt that he was handsome, with his long black wavy hair, and strong features. The musician noticed her watching and she thought she saw a smile.

"Ha yeah shit," she laughed, and finished wiping the table.

It had been a pretty cruisy shift, not too many people coming in. Evi had been working here near a month. Garfield Street Bar was a beautiful old building and most of the furnishings were original. When she'd seen the staff wanted sign on the door she knew this was the place for her. Gav had given her a shift that same night. At the time he had seemed like such a nice guy. He was a different, angrier man when drunk. At first she had loved this job, but Gav's nightly drinking had turned it sour. She would have quit, but she needed to save up for her ticket home. There was no way she would go begging her parents for the money.

"It's real quiet huh?" said Alexia pouring a drink next to her.

It was quiet, normally it was packed out on a Friday. The Garf was a hotspot for hipsters, the nightly live music lured them in.

"Yeah, quieter again," Evi said.

"I think everyone's home cause of that virus," Alexia said.

"Muaro virus yeah," Evi said, "must have everyone spooked."

"I think they're all being idiots. The news has been saying that they have it under control," Alexia said, "it's not like it's in Australia anyway."

"That signers pretty good," she said.

"Glenn?" Alexia said with a smirk, "Don't go there, that guy is a complete mess."

Evi found herself making excuses to come watch Glenn play, she thought he had made a pass at her earlier but she wasn't sure. Her visa was only valid for a bit over a month, if he turned out to be a mess she had the perfect excuse to get rid of him. Plus there is no way he could be as bad as the last guy. After his set she'd try to talk with him.

She waited for the end of his set and went on break. She took a seat at an empty table and rolled a cigarette, the ritual of rolling the tobacco always calmed her more so than the smoking itself. She lit her cigarette and noticed Bill cleaning tables.

"Hey Bill," she said.

"Hey what's up?" he said smiling and coming over.

"Is that musician still here?" she asked and his smile faltered.

"Glenn? Yeah, he's up with Gav," He said.

"Ah ok," She said.

She lit up another cigarette. She needed to quit before she got back to Denmark. Her mother would kill her if she found out.

The smoking area was a thin balcony divided by tables looking over the busy street below. She looked along the balcony and saw Glenn standing by the entrance. He pulled a pouch of tobacco from a pocket and rolled a cigarette. He scanned the balcony until his eyes met hers. She quickly looked away. Shit, I hope he didn't see me staring.

She turned to the street pretending to watch the crowds. She could see him heading in her direction from the corner of her eye. He pulled out a seat at her table and she turned to him.

"What did you think?" he said with a smile.

"Sorry?" she said.

"My music?" he said with a laugh.

"I didn't get much of a chance to see it," she lied, gesturing down at her uniform, "I am at work you know."

"That wasn't you watching then?" He smiled.

She felt her face going hot.

"You're new here right? I'm Glenn," he said, offering his hand for a shake.

"I'm Evi," she said, shaking his hand, "My breaks over, gotta get back to work."

"Alright then, I'll see you round," Glenn said.

She got up from the table and headed back into work. A sinking feeling in her stomach. She mentally kicked herself. She always let her nerves get the better of her. She thought a new situation would change her but she was still the same Evi, just in a different place.

She walked the empty streets of the Melbourne CBD back to her hostel. It was a small run down building full of backpackers. She couldn't sign up for a lease, so the month she'd been here it was a hostel or nothing. She missed her share house but at least it was cheap and close to work. This month in Melbourne had been tough. She missed Sydney. She had everything worked out there, but it wasn't an option anymore.

She opened the door slowly into her small room trying not to make a noise. The girls in the other three beds would be up early. It was a tiny room and her only space was her bed. She had learnt the top bunk was for suckers in a hostel. you could seal off the lower bunk with a sheet and gain a bit of privacy. She moved slowly, trying to step light and not let the old floorboards creak.

"Evi, that you?" Her bunk-mate, Lucy said.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"There was some guy asking around for you,"

For a moment fancy got the better of her and she thought it might have been Glenn, but that made little sense. She felt sick.

"Shit, what did he look like?"

"Tall with short blonde hair," Lucy said.

It was him.

"Fuck, what did you tell him?" she asked but she already knew the answer. She thought her move to Melbourne would get rid of him.

Craig had found her again.


	6. Glenn 2

It wasn't his best performance. The sweats had kicked in halfway through his hour session. Glenn had smoked most of his cigarettes and downed a couple of pots of beer to take the edge off on his halfway break, it hadn't helped much. He should've just got some beforehand. He was going there anyway, and he functioned so much better when he was on it. Glenn had hung round for a while after finishing. He needed to keep on the good side of the Garf, and the best way to do that was being Gav's drinking buddy.

Glenn sank into his beat up station wagon with a sigh. He just wanted to go home, but there were some things he needed to do first. The money he made playing at the Garf helped him scratch by, centrelink payments only got him so far. The only way this was going to work was if he had no reason to leave. Going out for food or smokes was all the excuse he needed to go score again so he planned to stock up on them. This time then done. He had told himself that before, but this time he was committed.

Glenn sat on an old leather couch covered in cigarette burns in a small apartment. The place was dirty and uncared for. The place smelled of cigarettes and marijuana. Electronic music blasted from speakers in the corner. Alexi lounged in front of his computer, the bright screening lighting his face in the dim room. Glenn watched the waves move on the screen. He'd never really had an interest in making beats, he preferred an instrument over a computer. Alexi had the full set up, everything you would need to mix and master like a pro. Shame he had no talent."Alexi?" Glenn said finally losing patience. His stomach was cramping pretty hard and his muscles ached.

"What?" Alexi was pretty drug fucked. He often forgot what he was saying mid sentence but the deals were casual and he hadn't ripped Glenn off yet. It was something you had to keep in mind. Eventually you were gunna get rolled or have your shit cut. It was just a matter of time.

"You said he's coming?" Glenn said.

"Yeah man. Hunters gunna be here any minute now, Then I'll hit you up."

"Hunters coming now?" Glenn asked, "Shit man, that guy hates me."

Glenn had only met hunter a few times and things hadn't gone well, he was a complete fuckwit. He was happy to let Alexi be his middle man, It cost a bit more but it was worth it. Alexi took a hit from his bong and offered it across to Glenn.

"Have a cone man," Alexi said. The bong looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks, a thick layer of grime lined inside.

"Here have a listen to this, tell me what you think," Alexi said turning up the track he was working on. It turned into many tracks.

"Turn that shit down you junkie cunt" Hunter screamed over the music. Glenn hadn't noticed him come in. A tall guy, gym junkie in his early 20's with a shaved head and neck tattoos. Veins popping like he was on steroids. "What have I told you about that shit. No one wants to hear it. Whats this cunt doing here?" Hunter said rounding on Glenn.

"He's just chilling man, it's no problem," Alexi said getting up from his chair gesturing to the back room, "come in the back."

Hunter eyed Glenn then turned and followed Alexi. Glenn hadn't been in the back room, but he knew that was where Alexi kept all his drugs and scales. They were in there for a bit, Glenn helped himself to another bong. They came out and Hunter turned to go and Glenn pretended to check his phone.

"I don't wanna see you again cunt." He said to Glenn, his eyes hard, and left slamming the door behind him.

"Fuck he's an angry bastard, sells the best shit though," Alexi said, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Glenn said.

"You'd better not be here next time he comes."

"No shit," Glenn said smiling, "You got my stuff?"

"Oh yeah, give me a sec," he said heading back to the back room.

He came back with a scale and a small baggy.

"A gram yeah?" he said as he put the small bag on the scales, "Hang round as long as you want but shoot up somewhere else, I don't want that shit done here."

The drive back was a blur. He had smoked too much. At least he had remembered to stop at a service station. He'd spent what was left of his dole money on tobacco and instant noodles.

Glenn's apartment was a run down old three storey house walled off into ten tiny apartments, they hadn't done a great job of it. You could hear everything though the walls but he couldn't complain. They put up with his guitar. He didn't have much in his cramped one bedroom unit. A little table where his TV had been, an empty fridge that he kept turned off unless there was stuff in it. It was off now. A mattress for a bed sitting lonely in a corner. At first he'd used sheets but now it was just a blanket on top of a bare mattress. He'd lined his walls with posters, it was against the rental agreement but the walls were fucked anyway.

He settled down on his mattress. It was really going to be the time he quit, he was sure of it. He had tied his arm off. His last trip. It would be his last.He searched his arm for a good vein. A sharp pain as the needle went in. Cool liquid flooded through his veins. First the tingle in his legs then it spread to his back. The familiar feeling washed over him like he'd slid into a warm bath. All his problems faded. Euphoria.


	7. Lawrence 2

Lawrence resisted the urge to rub the lines the mask had dug into his skin. It had been bothering him all shift. He made his way to the break room but first he had to change out of his isolation garb. The routine of taking it on and off was something he was going to have to get used to.

Lawrence entered the break room, Kim was there with two other nurses he hadn't met yet. He pulled the opaque container from the fridge and warmed his food in the microwave. His mum took him being properly fed seriously. She had decided she didn't want him eating cafeteria food. He found it easier to just go along. Lawrence took the seat next to Kim. It felt nice to just sit. His feet ached from being on them all night.

"Hey," He said stretching his legs, "how goes?"

"Yeah, pretty good, I just did my handover," she said with a tired smile.

"Nice, what are you still doing here?"

"You haven't heard?" she said her face surprised, " we're not supposed to go home yet."

"No, I haven't," he said.

"There's going to be a briefing on what procedure will be," she said.

Steamed poured out as he opened his lunch up. Rice with some fried tofu and pork from last night. He took his first bite. The meat was perfectly spiced. His stomach gurgled, it was just catching on to how hungry he was. They were still understaffed so every time he had thought about going on break there was another emergency he was needed for. Lawrence raised the spoon to take another bite several sharp high notes emitted from his pager.

"Patel: Come to my office ASAP," It read, he sighed and started to pack away meal, still barely touched.

"Leave it. I'll put it back in the fridge for you," Kim said.

"Thanks," He said.

"No probs," she said.

He walked quickly to the ward. The thoughts of hunger slowly faded as he got dressed and his mind went to other things. It had been crazy night at the hospital. The sealed ward in the third level now had 23 patients. All showing the same symptoms. Lawrence made his way to the new staff room they had set up, he passed the waiting area where they had put the patient's families. An elderly man made eye contact and stiffly got up from his chair and started to move in Lawrence's direction.

"Hey there," the man called out, "I want to know what's going on with my wife, nobody is telling us anything."

"I am sure someone will come and talk to you soon," Lawrence said moderating his tone, he didn't have time for this.

"Look, we've been here for hours," he said, "I just want to know if my wife is alright."

"I'm about to meet with Dr Patel. I'll bring it up with him and we'll organise someone to come talk to you. We appreciate your patience, please just wait a little longer."

This had been the busiest shift Lawrence had ever experienced. It was no wonder the visitors had been sidelined. Setting up the new ward and contacting everyone who had come in close proximity with an infected person had kept everyone busy. No official word had come down yet so they were just following standard procedure as best they could. They had six nurses who had come into contact and were now working isolation along with Dr. Patel and Lawrence. Most other staff were being kept out until they had a handle on what to do.

"Dr Patel what is it you needed?" Lawrence said entering Dr. Patel's office, there was an elderly woman there, her black dress suit looked like it had just been ironed and she had not one hair out of place in her greying bob cut.

"Ah Lawrence, good." Dr. Patel said his face looking drawn and tired, "This is Mary Wilson, the executive director, she has asked me to accompany her to run the staff through the procedures we are going to take over the next few days. I'm about to have a conference call with the Department of Health, so I want you to go in my place. Can you handle that?"

"Yes, sure thing," Lawrence said not feeling as certain as he sounded.

"Good," Mary said, "are we ready Dr Nguyen?"

"I was just talking with a patient's family member before, they were asking about the wife," Lawrence said.

"We haven't had a chance to brief them," Mary said, "we have time, best we do it now. Could you page the head nurse to accompany us Naveen?"

"Yes, I'll page her now," Dr Patel said.

Lawrence stood in the waiting room feeling the eyes of the patient's families on him. He hadn't done public speaking since high school and he never was very good at it.

"I am Mary Wilson, the executive director, this is Doctor Nguyen and Nurse Kelly. We appreciate your patience and the way you have all conducted yourselves. Dr Nguyen will explain the current situation then we will answer any questions you might have," she said.

Lawrence thought back to the discussion they had on the walk over. Mary had given him a list of things he could and could not stay. Trying to remember it all did nothing good for his nerves.

"We are still not sure what we are dealing with here," Lawrence said, stopping to clear his throat, "we have tests underway. Currently, all of our patient's are in a stable condition, and we are doing all that we can to keep them comfortable. The incubation period could be anywhere up to a month. Which means that you are all possibly carriers."

"This means when you leave, we urge all of you to isolate yourselves in your homes and do not allow guests to visit. You will be given pamphlets to guide you through the isolation process," Mary said, "Are there any questions?"

"What is happening with my wife?" The man Lawrence talked to said, his frustration clear.

"It depends on the severity of each case. Mrs Kelly can help you with that. She will inform you of all the details," Mary said in a calm voice.

"When can I visit my husband?" A young woman in her 20's and heavily pregnant asked.Mary looked to Lawrence, he realised she wanted him to take this one, "we don't know yet, but once more testing is done we'll have a firmer idea of how to handle this," he looked the lady in the eyes as he spoke, he found that helped.

"Is it that virus from the news?" a middle-aged man asked.

"We cannot confirm that at this time but it is likely that is the case." Mary said and waited a brief moment and no more questions came, "If you need anything please direct your questions to Mrs Kelly. Once again thank you for your patience," then she turned and left the room nodding to Mrs Kelly and motioning for Lawrence to follow.

They made their way to the staff room. Tonight would be his last time he went home Lawrence decided. His parents were elderly, and he would never forgive himself if he got them sick. He would go home and pack his belongings then book into a hotel.

Lawrence's pager went off again, and he heard Mary's buzz too, "Patel: meet me at entrance to ward URGENT," It read.

They met Dr Patel in the hallway, "what is it Naveen?" Mary asked.

"The front desk just called, the federal police are here and they're on their way up to the new ward." He said.

"The federal police, what on earth could they want?" she said.

They waited as the police filed out from the lifts. Their dark navy uniforms, helmets and respirators made them look like some kind of special forces unit. Only their eyes were behind a visor. Lawrence had a gnawing feeling that the situation was about to get worse.

"What is the meaning of this?" Mary said, "the hospital has not been informed of this."

"I am Sergeant Michael Lee," he said showing his identification, "as of today this hospital is under the jurisdiction of the AFP. Any decision made going forward regarding Muaro virus cases or suspected cases are to be brought to me before any action is taken. If you go against this request you will be breaking the law."

Lawrence studied the AFP officers. They were wearing respirators which meant they were here about the outbreak. For them to arrive here so quickly the government must know more about this virus than it was letting on.

"On what authority?" Mary said.

"A state of emergency has been declared," his tone was neutral, just a simple statement of facts, "I will also require all staff to sign a non-disclosure agreement in regards to the virus."


	8. Rebecca 1

Rebecca tasted the Bolognaise sauce, just how she liked it, an hour to simmer and it would be ready. It was her main go to, cheap and easy to make. A big batch could feed the family for a week. She looked for a spot to put down the stirrer, the bench was covered in unwashed dishes. She moved some unopened letters and put the stirrer down in their place. She put the letters on top of the cluttered dining table. She looked at the pile of junk, why was she the only one who bloody well did anything round here. She was sure Shane hadn't even looked for a job like he promised, and his pride wouldn't let him go back to the clubhouse.

She made her way to the lounge. She stepped over Hunter's dog asleep on a pile of clothes. Her son had changed so much over the last couple of years. He had been such a good kid. All the young ones at the clubhouse were the same. There was something wrong with the next generation.

Her husband Shane and Rob, her little brother, slouched on the couch watching last week's football game. The floor around them littered with beer cans. She'd already seen this game and they'd lost. Kerrie her youngest, huddled up in a chair, glued to her laptop.

"What's for dinner?" Shane asked not turning from the footy.

"Spag bol," she said, a tinge of annoyance at the question, she picked up the remote and switched to the news.

"I was watchin' that," Shane said.

"Yeah, what gives?" Rob said.

"It was a shit house game anyway," she moved some dirty plates off a lounge chair to the floor and sat down. "I've got something on, you can switch back after I'm done." She laid out her Powerball tickets on her lap.

"It's the damn Powerball isn't it?" Shane asked.

She said nothing and continued to set up her tickets, she didn't feel like getting into this old argument.

Kerrie looked up from her laptop. "The odds are like one in a hundred million mum."

"It's only $1.70 a ticket," Rebecca said.

"That's if you only buy one," Kerrie said.

"I thought I told you to stop wasting our money on it woman," Shane said.

She looked Shane in the eyes, "It's not "our" money unless you actually make some of it, you even called Centrelink yet?"

Shane looked away and didn't say anything.

"If you can't bloody well find another job, the least you can do is get off your fat arse and get on the dole," Rebecca said.

Rob opened a beer and laughed, she turned on him, "don't you laugh, I haven't forgotten that you said you'd only be here two weeks, you're bloody lucky I don't kick you out on the street where ya belong."

She turned back to the news.

"Three more boats full of asylum seekers have arrived off Christmas Island, the government has yet to make a comment on the turn back policies' failure," Jonathan Walsman the news presenter said. He'd been on the news as long as she could remember.

"Why don't they fuck off back to their own country," Shane said, "we've already got enough problems here, don't need their shit too."

"Dad they're only looking for a better life," Kerrie said, "I doubt you would do any different if you were in their situation."

"Here we go," Rebecca sighed and turned up the TV.

"Riots continue in Indonesia as the government takes strong measures to regain control after the second day of lawlessness," the news reporter continued.

"Things are getting really crazy over there," Kerrie said, "I found a leaked video of the military straight up shooting protesters,"

"This is why I don't watch the news. It's all negative," Rebecca said, "can't they just report on something good for once?"

"Were now going to take you to the prime ministers address from earlier today," the reporter said.

"The good news is that so far we have it under control," the prime minister said "We're asking for the cooperation of all Australians in the coming weeks, so far we only have suspected cases. If you are sick, stay at home, if you or anyone you know is showing symptoms call the Muaro virus hotline. I know together as Australians we are up to this challenge."

"This bloke's such a wanker," Rob said.

"I was at the supermarket earlier, there were a lot of people sneezing and coughing," Kerrie said, "I don't know if I believe they have it under control."

"You know I was talkin' to this bloke the other day, he was sayin' the Americans made it and they released it on purpose," Shane said.

The Powerball logo flashed across the screen, "shh the Powerball's coming up." Rebecca removed the lid from her highlighter and readied the notepad to jot the numbers as they came.

"There's a silver lining in amongst all this bad news. No one picked up the division one number's in the $80 million dollar draw, so it sends tonight's jackpot skyrocketing to a whopping 100 million dollars," the lottery woman said.

"Nah mate, it was the Chinese, I read it online," Rob said.

"Shut up will ya?" Rebecca said. They ignored her and kept on talking, she tuned them out.She felt the rush as the balls started to spin, her heart beat faster. This was why she bought the tickets, that little rush she got once a week. She checked her numbers, her lucky numbers. She couldn't hear the TV but the numbers were coming up on the screen anyway.

"30," came up on the screen.

She highlighted all the 30's that came up, she had become very practised at her little routine. She could keep up as the balls dropped, it was something she was proud of.

"6, 8."

Two of her tickets had all 3 numbers, if she got the Powerball they'd cover most of the cost of the tickets. She might even treat herself to a few more tickets than usual next week.

"3, 34."

She checked her ticket against the TV, those were her numbers.

"27."

That was hers too. Her palms were clammy.

"22."

All seven. Just the Powerball left. Her breath stopped she never thought she'd actually win anything. "Come on, lucky number seven."

The Powerball machine spun, a ball dropped, it rolled down the tube, it was seven. 

Her hand shook as she rechecked her numbers.

"I won," she said.

"What?" Shane said getting up and came over, "no way let us see."

She showed him the ticket. His face lit up with that silly grin of his. She reached out and hugged him."Guess what that means," tears welled in her eyes. "We're all going to Disney Land."


	9. Anne 1

Anne monitored the sound levels and checked the feed for any issues as Jonothan Walsman presented the news. They had been such firebrands in their youth, she had big dreams then. Full of utopian ideals. The world needed fixing and they would be the ones to do it. Now look at her. She worked a cushy corporate TV news gig, towing the line. A sell out in her winter years.

"And that is the six o'clock report for this Thursday, I'll be back with you tomorrow. I'm Jonothan Walsman, and from all of us here, stay safe and have a good night," Jonothan said showing his perfect teeth with that practised smile of his.

He was an old man now, hair greyed, face lined with wrinkles. It made her sad to think of their University days together so long ago. They had dated for a while in their youth, that was before she had figured herself out. Journalism had been different then, a respected profession. Now anyone with a camera could make a video, upload it to YouTube, and call it news.

"Good work everyone," she said and started organising the crew. They all knew their roles but it was important to be seen doing her job. Everyone worked better when they knew someone was in charge.

The room was still a bustle of activity as people moved to the next task for the night. Satisfied she passed the news room on the way to her office, she made a point to check in on them after broadcast.

"How are we all?" she said poking her head into the room. A journalist coughed. A deep barking cough.

"Gregg." Anne made a point to know the names of the people who worked under her. "You know the rules. If you're sick you shouldn't be here. Go home and if you're not better I don't want to see you here tomorrow night."

"Can I speak with you in your office?" another journalist said, she was young, new to the team.She nodded for the woman to follow.

"Jessica," Anne said making herself comfortable at her desk. "what do you have for me?"

"I have new footage from the riots in Indonesia," Jessica said.

"VPN's haven't worked since the Indonesian Government passed the internet black out," Anne made it tough on her journalists, best to weed out stories here before they got to the editing stage. "How did you get it?"

"My source in the Indonesian press managed to cross the border into Malaysia." Jessica handed across her phone, the video ready to play. The footage was an aerial shot of the riots, seemed to be off a rooftop. Not the grainy footage they been getting.

"This is good footage," Anne said and returned the phone. "But we've already covered the riots, its old news."

"There's more to it," Jessica said, not taking her phone back. "Keep watching."

The protesters started to charge the soldiers. The soldiers fired a warning shot above their heads but it didn't stop them. The protesters movement was weird, they moved like drunks. Some looked like they're already injured. The military fired into the oncoming mass, it barely slowed them, only a few dropped. Then the protesters closed on them. Soldiers were dragged screaming to the ground. The line broke, they ran, those that remained were torn at with gouging hands and teeth as they struggled for their lives.

"What is happening here?" Anne asked, "these people are rabid, I've never seen anything like it.""My source said these are the infected," she said, "the virus isn't as under control as we've been led to believe. The deaths are skyrocketing and the country is in complete anarchy."

They hadn't been able to confirm anything in the last few days, she had assumed it was bad and it seemed like she wasn't wrong.

"That's not all of it," Jessica said, "my source found out that there were a group of European archaeologists in Muaro village only two weeks before the breakout."

"That sounds like conspiracy," Anne had heard rumours, but it was all the standard internet nonsense. "Do you have proof?"

"My source said they have footage," she said, "the government was chasing the group, they never applied for permits. They were to be brought in for questioning but couldn't be located.""That's not enough to go on," Anne said.

"If we make a splash maybe we can get in contact with them. At the very least they were there before the breakout. They might have some insights," Jessica said.

"Fair," Anne said, "can you get your source to go on the record?"

"I don't know."

"Confirm this Archaeologist story and bring it back to me when you're done. Push your source to go on the record," Anne said, "I want this tight, no screw ups."

"I'm going to get Marty in on this, start editing, you will be leading this." Anne texted Marty and started for his office. "Oh, and send me that footage."

There had been footage leaking and stories on the net before Indonesia went dark. She had dismissed it all. Had she become conservative and stuck in her ways. What else had got past her. The Australian government wasn't talking, they must know more than they're letting on. Why didn't she had a team on this already. She'd let herself get too comfortable.

"What have you got?" Marty said. A small man, a mess of curly brown hair and thick glasses. He was the head producer and not a bad guy, considering. Anne filled him in on the story she planned to run. He rifled through the mess of reports that covered his desk.

"The economy could take a nosedive, there could be a run on the banks, fighting in super markets. We need to sit on this. Releasing this will cause a panic. Do you want to be responsible for that?" He said, rubbing his nose where the glasses sat. "We have the shareholders to worry about. If you're wrong we'll all be sacked, you really want to risk that?"

"Fucking hell Marty," she said, "we've been sleeping on this, there is some serious shit going on and the Australian people don't know anything about it."

He seemed taken aback by her language, she found strong language was far more impactful used sparingly. "Your information is good then?" He asked.

"Watch the damn video." She thrust her phone at him.Marty sighed and watched the video. "Fine . . I'll run it past corporate."


	10. Evi 2

Evi unpacked her worn travel bag for the tenth time. Her head throbbed, she'd stayed back to drink with the staff after work and was suffering the consequences. Her phone was with her when she got home the night before. She checked under her bed again, it still wasn't there, only some food and an abandoned sock. Her roommates had searched their luggage. Evi didn't think any of them had taken it but appreciated the gesture. Lucy had called but it went to voicemail. Maybe she left it at the bar. She would go and check, but didn't feel like getting roped into an early shift.

Giving up, Evi laid on her bed and opened her book. At least with her phone gone she would be able to read without distraction. Halfway into the first page her stomach growled. She checked under the bed for snacks. Nothing, some potatoes and mouldy bread. She sighed, she had put off grocery shopping for too long. If she started eating out again that was a quick path to being broke.

The elevator screeched and clanged as it took her three storeys to the lobby. She doubted it's last service was recent, that fit with the theme of this hostel. She had taken the stairs at first but she could only keep that up so long. She walked out through the waft of smoke from backpackers hanging at the entrance. All tattoos and out there hairstyles. She didn't recognise them, no long-termers.

It was busy out, cars banked up and people walking everywhere. For all the downsides of the hostel, living in the city made up for it. She did a double take, a beat-up white station wagon was parked opposite the hostel entrance. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach. The car door opened and a blonde man started to get out. She turned and walked as fast as she could, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She used the reflective shop fronts, they gave her a view of the street behind. He wasn't there. Maybe he didn't follow her.

She used a group of people as cover and ducked into the supermarket. She lost herself amongst the crowded supermarket. She wasn't sure it was even Craig's car, she might have freaked herself out over nothing. She turned into an aisle and saw Bill. He studied an empty shelf then walked down the aisle. She had been so distracted she hadn't seen how many of the shelves were empty.

Evi caught up and tapped him on the shoulder. "What are you doing here? You got the lunch shift?"

Bill turned. "Hey Evi," he said with a big goofy smile, "nah, I'm off today, I live near here."

"In the CBD? How much is Gav paying you?" Evi grabbed two bags of sour cream and chives chips, doing her best to act normal. They weren't as good as the ones back in Denmark but they were close.

"My friend's uncle owns an apartment. He doesn't charge us much, so it's not too bad once we split it." He picked up a pack of biscuits, looked at them and put them back.

"That's pretty cool," Evi said. A man coughed into his elbow and people moved back from him. She looked around, people we're keeping their distance from one another. A lot of them wore face masks. "Is it me or are people acting weird as shit?"

"You haven't kept up with the news then?"

"I think I left my phone at work last night." There was a possibility that Craig stole it. She felt gross. He might have been in her room, but she doubted he could have got past the hostel staff.

"There's been breakouts of that virus all across Europe and it's getting worse in Asia. The media are downplaying it, but people aren't stupid."

A middle-aged woman bent to pick up the last bag of rice. Her trolley already full of rice.

"Hey, save some for everyone else," a young woman said putting her hand on the same bag.

"It's mine, I got it first."

The women argued, neither letting go. They pulled at the bag as their voices raised.

Evi looked around, a small crowd of onlookers had formed around the women.

The bag split and rice scattered across the floor.

Why had no one stopped them.

"You stupid bitch," the younger woman said and picked up a bag out of the other woman's trolley.

Evi took a step forward. "Hey stop it."

"Put that back," the middle-aged woman yelled and grabbed the other woman by the hair. The other woman screamed and slapped at her wildly.

"I said fucking stop it." Evi got between them and pushed the fighting women apart.

Then she wasn't alone. "Come on, don't be stupid," a man said as he pulled the middle-aged women back.

She got loose and pushed him right towards Evi. The man tripped and bumped into Evi. She lost her balance and crashed into a shelf, bringing bags and cans to the ground with her.

"Hey, hey, stop that," a man in a store uniform said. He spoke into the little radio. "Security to isle five." More people stepped in to pull the women apart. She pushed herself back sliding out of the way of the milling crowd. Then Bill was there.

"Are you alright?" he said and pulled her to her feet, "that was wild."

"You mind walking me back?" She didn't want to face the walk home alone.

"Yeah sure," Bill said.

She scanned the street when they left but she didn't see Craig anywhere. Her nerves on edge again.

"You alright?" Bill asked.

"There was a guy who made my life hell back in Sydney," she said, there was no point dancing around it.

"That sucks," he said.

"I think he's followed me to Melbourne." She held back the tears that wanted to come.

"Rough," he said, "you call the cops?"

"I've tried that before. They'll talk to him," she said, "but he won't stop, they'll tell me I can get a restraining order but how long will that take. My VISA is about to run out anyway, I just have to avoid him till then." She hadn't told anyone about Craig since her big move. Best to forget he had ever happened, but as she talked a burden she didn't know she was carried, lifted.

They stopped in front of the hostel. She wiped her face with her sleeve. Bill picked out a brochure from the front window and wrote on it. "Here's my number. Call me if you need anything yeah? I'm just up the road."

None of her room mates were in. For once she would have rathered they all be here. She packed the groceries into their spot under the bed. There was something neatly placed in the centre of her bed. A small brown package. She was certain it wasn't there before she left. It had started again. Tear blurred her vison. She picked up the package and removed the brown wrapping paper. Her phone, that bastard had taken it. Her hand trembled and tears dropped on the phone. It slid open without a pass code. A notes app was open on the screen. "I'm sorry I took your phone, I won't do it again. I'm really sorry for how things turned out but we can't let that get in the way. We're perfect for each other, just give me another chance."

She couldn't stay here, not if he could get into her room. Evi went to the window, she looked for him or his car. Neither were there, it didn't make her feel any better. She dialed Bill's number. "That creep got into my room, you got a couch I can crash on?"

"That's fucked, you want me to come there?" he said.

"Nah, I'll get a taxi and there's a security guy at the desk." She doubted he'd be brave enough to do anything with people around.

"I'll text you my address." Bill said.

Her phone beeped, she opened the message.

"Who's your new boyfriend?" the message read, "didn't take you long. I didn't realise you were such a whore. I love you so much and all you do is hurt me. You deserve what's coming."

Her phone beeped again. It had to be Bill this time.

An image, dark and grainy, hard to make out. She turned up the brightness of her screen. It was her in her bed asleep.


	11. Yarran 1

Yarran wandered through rows of shelves full of comics and toys. Most of it was cheap trash designed to waste fan's money. It didn't bother him that they liked it, the cynical companies that overcharged for the cheap plastic made in sweatshops were what bothered him. His phone buzzed again, ten missed calls. This place was his sanctuary, a large underground geek store. He could spend hours wandering and browsing, all his problems faded here. He put his phone back in his pocket, that was a later problem.

He found his current favourite comic. The new issue was out. A dystopian political thriller set in a future of megacorporations and robotics. He was a sucker for dystopian fiction. He checked his bank balance, he had just enough. He'd think about it and check out a few more before he decided.

He noticed someone from the corner of his eye. The security guard stood nearby not even pretending to not be watching him. He had been a loyal customer here for years and this shit still happened. How long had he been shadowing Yarran, probably since he came in. He looked directly at the guard hoping to make him feel uncomfortable, a skinny white guy with a thick and bushy moustache hugging his upper lip. Lip-rug turned his head to watch another group but didn't move on. Yarran decided to stay longer out of spite, he wasn't going to leave before he felt like it. Lip-rug pretended not to watch him but Yarran wasn't fooled. Australia's not so subtle way of reminding him of his place in his country.

Yarran checked his phone, it was getting late and he had looked at all the comics he liked at least twice. He went up to the counter and bought the comic. He handed over the little numbered card and the clerk returned his bag.

Lip-rug was by the entrance. He stood there, arms crossed, eyes locked on Yarran. Yarran wasn't going to let this little man intimidate him, eyes straight ahead he headed for the exit.

"Need to search your bag," Lip-rug said.

"It was at the counter the whole time," Yarran said.

"It's company policy to search all bags," Lip-rug said with a hint of a smirk.

He forced himself to hold the man's eyes. Yarran wanted to look away, but he didn't want to give the guard the satisfaction. If he made a problem Yarran would come out worse. And Lip-rug knew it. "Fine." Yarran unzipped his bag.

Yarren left the store shaking. His mind racing with all the things he should have said. He let that bastard get away with it.

He crossed the park on his way to the train station. He liked the park at night. Old trees loomed overhead and sometimes there would be possums to watch. It was well-lit and he couldn't stand the packed trams, so many people jammed like sardines in a tin. The park was empty, he almost had the place to himself. A woman stumbled about off the path that cut through the centre, her untamed hair and dishevelled clothing gave her the look of homelessness. She moaned, a painful guttural sound, she was probably drunk. The only other person he could see was a man a distance ahead of Yarran, lit by the bright screen of his phone.

His phone buzzed again. Life had got hard since mum had come back. She'd been in and out of rehab most of his life, he knew it wasn't her fault, but as much as he rationalised it to himself he still blamed her. His grandparents were too nice, no matter what she did they let her come back every time she got clean. She would promise everything would be better and Yarran had believed her every time, and every time she had let him down. Things would go missing and she would disappear again.

He was catching up to the man, a business man in a suit and glasses. Glasses turned and saw Yarran. His posture stiffened and he sped up. He had made it awkward, Yarran could walk past the guy but he would freak out. Yarran didn't want to deal with that. He thought of crossing the grass but why should he have to leave the path and there was a low fence that lined the path. It felt wrong to ignore the fence, it was probably there for a reason. He slowed to put a bit more space between him and Glasses.

Glasses' phone rang, breaking the dead silence of the empty park. The woman stopped still and stared at glasses. She ran at Glasses. Her arms slapped about as she stumbled about. Yarran started to laugh, her sudden stupid run cut through his bad mood, it was absurd. She closed on glasses, he hadn't noticed her approach. She lunged at him, tackling the man and slamming him to the ground, Glasses let out a high-pitched scream in shock.

"Hey lady, get off him," Yarran yelled.

They wrestled on the ground. Glasses tried to fend her off, his arms slapping wildly. Her teeth bared like an animal, she snapped at his arms. She found purchase and latched onto his forearm, blood welling around her teeth. Yarran jogged towards them. There was a sickening wet noise as she ripped a strip of flesh from his arm. Glasses howled in pain and thrashed wildly. Snapping jaws got closer and closer to his neck. Her hands dug trying to find spots to tear.

Yarran grabbed the woman by her coat and pulled at her. She was stronger than she looked, she ignored his efforts. He kicked her, she didn't respond at all. He kicked her hard. She tried to bite Glasses' neck. Yarran panicked, she was trying to kill the man. He grabbed a short metal fence pole. It came loose with little resistance. He hit the woman in the head. It made a dull thud as it jarred his arm but she didn't stop. Her gnashing jaws closed on Glasses' throat. His bloody hand's slipped and her teeth sunk into his neck. Yarran swung, there was a loud crack as her skull fractured. She ripped a chunk of flesh from Glasses' neck, blood squirted everywhere. She wouldn't stop. Yarran hit her again, he lost count of how many times. Blood splattered with every hit. She slumped, her head a bloody pulp. Glasses lay beneath bleeding out. Why did she attack him? She must be on something.

Yarran wanted to go. It was a bad situation. A dead woman. Her skull caved in, her eyes dull and lifeless. He had done that. He pushed the image out of his mind, if this man died it would have been for nothing. He dialled 000, their questions were a blur. He applied pressure to Glasses' neck wound with his ripped shirt.

The woman's lifeless eyes gazed up at him. He'd really fucked up. He'd played it safe his entire life, he thought he was better than that but it turned out he wasn't.

Cop cars pulled up, lights flashing and sirens blared. His body went cold all over and he felt faint.

The headlights blinded him. "Stand up with your arms behind your back."

"I can't, he's bleeding out." Yarran said.

"What in the fuck happened here?"

Someone grabbed him roughly, his face forced into the dirt. The cold metal of cuffs clamped down on his wrists.


	12. Lawrence 3

Lawrence sipped at his strong coffee, he drank it hot to avoid the horrible bitter taste. He wasn’t a coffee guy, but it helped him adjust to night shift. Nightmares of the virus and an overwhelmed hospital had plagued his sleep. His mother was in the kitchen preparing dinner, she argued with her sister on video chat. His father napped in a lounge chair. The Vietnamese show he had been watching blared loudly. He had always meant to move out after he finished University, but they were getting elderly and he couldn’t bring himself to leave them.

Mother had refused to let him stay in a hotel. Easier if he called and told them after. He had bought them supplies on his way home and had hidden it in his room. With that, they wouldn’t need to go to the supermarket for a couple of weeks. He’d packed his car and booked a hotel for the night. His parents wouldn’t be happy, but it was better this way.

He moved to the lounge and switched over to the news. He wanted an idea of what had happened over the day and what to expect at the hospital. The media covered outbreaks in cities across Europe and the America’s. They cut to a brief clip of the Prime Minister. He said that it was under control in Australia. Anyone who shows symptoms should call a newly established Muaro virus hotline. That was odd. Lawrence looked up news on his phone. No reports came up. There should be after the numbers he had seen last night.

The media wasn’t lying directly, but by omission. No wonder all the staff had to sign non-disclosure agreements. There were no reports of how many people the hospital had taken in, even though at least 23 were at his hospital alone. Let alone how many others around Melbourne. The government had dropped the ball and were trying to cover it up. The public wouldn’t know how to stay safe if there was no communication.

“Alright, I’m off to work,” he said.

“You stay home, don’t go to work,” she said, her English still broken after all her years in Australia.

Lawrence half regretted telling her about the outbreak. “We’re already understaffed, I can’t do that to them.”

“It don’t safe, take sick day,” she said.

He gave her a hug. “I’ll be alright mum, it’s all under control at the hospital.” He can’t stay here and put them at risk again. “You don’t need to worry.”

Lawrence called her after he arrived at the hospital. She hadn’t been happy, but his parents would be safe. He exited the lift to the ward on the third floor. Two federal police stood by either side of the door. They wore respirators and their drab navy uniforms. They held some kind of machine gun. He had never seen a gun in real life, and they made him uncomfortable.

“What’s your business here?” one said, his voice muffled. The only part of his face visible were his cold, hard eyes.

“I work here,” Lawrence said.

“Your name and ID,” he said.

Lawrence considered protesting the request but thought better of it. They eyed him suspiciously and ran his ID on a tablet. “Report to the testing station.”

A bearded man in his forties, his mask didn’t seem to fit properly, sat at a little desk by the entrance to the ward. “Take a seat,” the man said, gesturing to the seat in front of him. “I’m Toby, we’re testing all the staff.” Toby’s eyes had the wrinkles of a man who smiled often. “You haven’t had a cough, nausea, or been generally unwell?” 

“Nah, no issues”

“Left or right?” Lawrence indicated his right. “A lefty, aye?” Toby smiled and put a tourniquet around Lawrence’s arm and pumped it up. “You haven’t had any aspirin, have you?” 

“Nope.” There was a sharp scratch as the needle went in.

“Righty-o, can I just get your name and D.O.B. there, chief?” Toby asked as he removed the tourniquet.

“Lawrence Nguyen, 15th of March, 94.” He flexed his hand to help the blood flow. “Have we got any results on the bloodwork yet?”

“Well.. It’s a virus, but it’s different from anything we’ve seen before. We can’t even bloody work out what family of virus it belongs to, but we can tell it’s there. So it looks like we’re gunna have to get used to this.”

“Really? No idea at all?”

“Nah, but The CSIRO is working on it.” Toby removed the needle with a quick motion and replaced it with a cotton bud. “All good to go.” he said and Lawrence got up and went towards the ward. “Oh yeah, Naveen asked me to send you his way.” Toby called out.

Lawrence ignored the AFP officer standing stiffly, his machine gun pointed at the ground, as he entered Patel’s office.

“How you holding up?” Lawrence could tell Patel hadn’t gone home. His clothes, crumpled like he’d fallen asleep in his chair and deep bags lined his eyes.

“73 patients, that’s how we’re doing.” Patel yawned. “We’re not equipped to deal with this and management isn’t doing a damn thing about it, now we’ve got government nannies in the way too.”

“73?” Lawrence sighed, “Why do the cops have guns now? Seems unnecessary.” 

“I don’t like it either... but, that is out of our control, we best worry about the things we can influence.” Patel massaged the back of his neck. “I’ve already talked to Mary but if you get a chance, we don’t even have enough beds. Another doctor’s input might help.”

They had been understaffed when they only had the first lot of patients, now they had triple the amount of patients and the same number of staff. Management would have to assign more workers. It wouldn’t be fair to whoever they chose. He hoped they would ask for volunteers. 

“Lawrence, where are you staying?” Patel asked.

“I’ve been staying at my parents’ place.”

“Ah,”

“Yeah, I booked a hotel for tonight though.”

“Best you don’t go somewhere so public. I have a spare room you’re welcome to use while this goes on.”

A steady stream of patients had arrived over his shift. Empty beds and space running out, they sent as many as they could home with instructions to isolate. He opened the door to the break room, his stomach rumbled, with so much to do he’d missed his break by an hour.

There was a sharp beep, Lawrence massaged his temples, let the door swing closed and checked his pager.

Lawrence checked over a man in his 30's laid out on a hospital bed. They were in a recently converted office. The bed took up most of the room and made conditions cramped. Kim ran through the patient’s history as he worked. Two cops hovered by the door, Lawrence could feel their presence, they were intruding on his space.

“Bite wounds?” Lawrence asked and checked the bandage on the man’s neck. The man was unconscious and his breathing was a bit too rapid for Lawrence's liking. “These are pretty severe for bites.”

“Human bites,” she said.

“Weird,” Lawrence checked the machines. His heartbeat was a little fast. “Why are we getting him?”

“Every patient is given a blood test now, and he came up positive. So he’s ours. Got a really high reading too.” Kim said, “you gunna stay in the new ward?”

“New ward?”

“Yeah, they’re opening one up for staff to stay in.” Kim said as she checked his temperature. “I think I’ll stay, sounds like a school camp. Should be fun. Temperature is low.”

“Ha, that sounds awful,” he said, “living at work? My life is sad enough already.”

Alerts from the machines beeped. The man's heart rate increased rapidly, it made little sense he was stabilised. “He’s going into tachycardia, get the defibrillator ready.”

They applied the adhesive pads. “Clear,” Lawrence waited for Kim to step away.

The shock stopped his heart. “Beginning CPR,” Lawrence said, the procedure well practiced.

Lawrence compressed the man’s chest in rhythmic beats as Kim readied the mask ventilator.

A force roughly knocked him aside. Confused, he watched as the two cops bagged the patient.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said.

One glared at him. “Look mate, you do your job and leave us to ours.”

“I am.” He felt the anger in his voice. “That man’s not dead yet.”

The cop shrugged and casually said, “looked pretty dead to me.” They wheeled the bed out of the room.

Lawrence moved between them and the door. “Where are you taking him? “

“Move,” the cop said, his tone commanding. “Or you’ll be put under arrest.”

Lawrence saw Kim gesture to him to move out of the way. They pushed past him and rolled the bed out into the hallway. “What in the hell is going on here? I’m going to talk to management. This is ridiculous.”

“Management won’t do anything, the head nurse already tried,” Kim said, sounding resigned. “We lost five patients since last night. Same thing happened to them too.”

Fuming Lawrence had an idea. He locked himself in the accessibility toilet. It was a sealed room. No one to overhear. He searched the internet and installed the requested anonymising app. He dialed.

“This is the tip line,” a woman said, “how can I help you?”

“I’m a doctor at a Melbourne hospital, the government is covering up what’s happening at hospitals.”


	13. Anne 2

Anne strode through the door to Marty’s office. She projected as much authority as she could. She masked the icy rage that burned underneath. Marty talked loudly on a call. Without looking at her, he motioned to take a seat. A small seat with no armrests, dwarfed by his ornate desk. She knew that trick. She ignored him and stood.

As angry as she was she always maintained a facade of professionalism. The morning team hadn’t run the story. Either they were cowards, or corporate got involved. The federal police that lurked the building hinted at something worse. The optics of an authoritarian move by the government. They’d even had the gall to ask her for her ID. She had put them in their place.

She had waited to come see Marty, let him stew first. The story would run, she just had to play this right. He put down the phone, clearly uncomfortable as he made eye contact with her.

“What the hell happened, Marty?”

“I know, l know,” he said, his palms up in a calming gesture. “I talked to corporate, but they refused, and then the government got involved. It was a total mess. My hands are tied in this. The story won’t run.”

“Not good enough,” she regulated her tone and maintained her icy calm. “And you let the police in?”

“Nothing I could do,” he said.

“On what grounds did they reject the story?”

“It’s not going to happen, Anne,“ he smiled a sad smile. “Don’t push this, it’s not worth your job.”

She closed his door a little harder than intended. She’d seen this before over her years reporting, creeping authoritarianism. Governments had a nasty habit of extending powers in times of crisis. And so what if they fired her? She had loved her life as a journalist. She could go back to that.

Anne sat at her desk, “That damn coward,” she yelled and slammed her fists on the desk. She needed control. She ran through her breathing exercises. There was a soft knock at the door. “Come,”Anne said.

Chloe entered, a petite timid woman, good at her job but easily overlooked. “Sorry to bother you,” she said.

Anne smoothed her face. She refused to take her anger out on those below her. “It’s fine, what do you have?”

“I got a tip off, a source from inside a hospital. It’s bad, there’s a lot of sick people. The Federal Police have taken them over, staff are being forced to sign non-disclosure agreements.”

“Can you contact this source? We need footage.“ 

“I’ll contact him,” Chloe said.

“Is the lead story ready?” Anne asked.

“Yes.. but Marty said it wasn’t going on.”

“Good, it’s going to run,” Chloe seemed uncomfortable, but Anne didn’t have time to coddle her. “Report back to me when you have an update on that footage.”

She barely paid attention to Chloe leaving. Anne closed her eyes and re-started her breathing exercises. She had to be prepared, she could not afford to get angry. This was her last line before more drastic action became necessary. She picked up her phone and dialled.

“Hello Anne, I was wondering when you would call,” the director answered, his tone even.

“Why was the story rejected and why are there police here?” 

“It’s a matter of public safety”

“And what does that mean?”

“We are running stories to keep the public informed on a need to know basis, the government has the situation under control, It’s your job to keep the people informed without causing panic.” 

Anne waited but said no more, “don’t give me that, I’ve been in this game long enough to deserve an explanation.”

The director paused for a long time. It felt like minutes, “I like you, so I will level with you. The government needs to do things the public wouldn’t accept. I’ve got guarantees we can tell the story after it’s all done.”

“After it’s done? Our duty is to inform the public, the choice should be put in their hands, not ours. If the government needs to hide its actions, all the more reason to expose them. We need not lie to the public, that kind of attitude is why people don’t trust the media.”

“Really Anne?,” he laughed, “you want the masses making decisions?” 

There must be something in it for him, she decided, “Why did you agree to this?”

“There wasn’t really a choice, I had a lengthy call with a government minister who clarified the situation. They have informed me of the Indonesia situation. Reports are limited since the internet went down, but what they had was convincing. The government is doing what is necessary, preparations are in motion. I trust that this is the last I will hear on this matter.”

Anne sat at her desk and mapped out options. At least she knew where corporate stood. Another knock on her door interrupted her. “What?”

Jonothan entered her office. He held up a pack of unopened cigarettes. “Care to join me on the roof?”

She smiled despite herself. 

They stood on the roof of the building, looking out over the city below. The harsh smoke tasted awful. They hadn’t had a smoke together like this in years. 

Jonothan studied her for a long while, “What’s on your mind, Anne?”

She filled him in on her talk with the director and the information the journalists had gathered.

“That’s not all of it,” he said, his face serious, no trace of a smile, “I got word from contacts in the military, they’re being deployed to major cities overnight. There’s rumours they will enact martial law.”

“I don’t like it.” Anne said.

“Neither do I,” he said.

They stood in silence for a long time.

She took a drag and exhaled slowly. “I needed this,” she laughed.

“I could tell. Saw that scary look you get. The one you get when something is in your way.”

She laughed. “I’m not that obvious, am I?”

“To me you are,” he said. “I heard you went off at Marty. Thought you’d gone soft. It’s been a long time since you were like this.”

She looked at him, despite all the years she could still see that boy from her youth underneath.

“It’s good to see. I never picked you for settling. I imagined you still attached to a regiment in some far-off conflict till you got dragged off into retirement.”

“I didn’t settle Jono, I got tired. You can only see so much.” She looked out over the city, “people need to know.”

“I agree.” He took a slow drag from his cigarette and coughed. “I’ve got my slot on the radio tomorrow. If Marty won’t budge, we can air it there, tweet it out or whatever the kids do.”

The radio wasn’t enough, there was something big happening and none of it seemed for the good. The government had to be exposed before their plans were too far in motion.

“What are you hatching?” The amusement plain on his wrinkled, old face.

“Who can we trust?” she asked, she had some people in mind.

“Some of the kids are good,” he said, “some real adversarial types. They’ll be up for it.”

“If we can’t report we might have to take the station and broadcast, regardless.”

“That's a bit extreme, isn’t it?” he laughed.

“I don’t like where this is headed,” she said. She had witnessed coups before. This had that feeling. “Best we prepare for the worst.”


	14. Mark 1

“He didn’t seem to have a killer instinct about him,” Claire said. They hadn’t worked together long. She was a country girl, fresh out of the academy.

Mark flicked his indicator and turned a corner. He’d been doing this beat for most of his career. He knew the area well, good and bad. His old partner went into retirement. Now he had a kid for a partner. Thirty years on the force had taught him a lot about people. She had a long way to go. “You saw the mess he made of that lady.”

“She attacked that man,” she said.

“Did that look like self defence to you? Crime is in their genes, you’ll see after you’ve been dealing with them as long as I have.” 

“Come on, that’s not fair.”

“You know what they say. Not all abos are bad, it’s the 99% that give the rest a bad name.” he said, and laughed.

He waited for her laugh, but it didn’t come. 

“What?” he said, with heat in his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those politically correct types, it’s just a joke.” Mark missed his old partner.

“He called it in. He could have run and chances are he’d never be caught. It’s strange is all I’m saying,” she said.

He hadn’t decided whether he was impressed by the kid owning up, or the sheer stupidity of it.

“Is there any information on military presence tonight?” The radio buzzed. “We’re seeing a lot of them out here.”

“At least it’s been an interesting night.” He said. She didn’t respond.

“That car is going way too fast,” she said, motioning to the car that passed them.

He flipped on the sirens.

They stood by the side of the car. An elderly man sat behind the wheel. He had a friendly look about him.

“You take the lead on this one,” he said.

She nodded and waited for the man to roll down the window. “I’m constable Claire Jones. Do you know why we stopped you?”

“No, sorry officer,” The elderly man said. He looked like he’d been crying.

“Are you aware of how fast you were going?” she said.

The man shook his head. “I was distracted.”

“You were going 60 in a 50 zone, License and address, please.”

“Sorry officer,” he said, as he handed over his licence.

“You’re far from home. What are you here for?” Claire asked as she read his licence.

“I was just sent home from the hospital, I think my wife is... dying.” He stumbled over the last word.

They took the license back to the car and ran it. Harry Thompson, he came up clean, no driving offences in the last ten years. “Do we need to fine him now?” Claire asked.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Can we give him a warning?” she asked.

“Yeah I reckon,” he said, “poor bugger’s having a hard enough night.”

They drove around for an uneventful half hour. The traffic stop broke the tension that had built. He needed to be careful with his jokes around her. The force was changing, and it was for the worse.

“Any unit near Ascot Vale clear for a CODE 10,” the radio buzzed.

“Well, that’s us,” he said, “shit, I hate domestics.”

Mark cruised along a suburban street. The street had seen better days. He pulled up in front of an old commission home, its weatherboards flaked with paint. The garden, an overgrown mess. The windows were dark, no lights on inside. An old woman paced in front of the house. She looked nervous. 

“You were the person who reported the incident?” Mark asked, as he got out of the car.

“Yes, they’re druggies and I usually ignore them, but he’s gone too far this time,” she said.

He couldn’t hear or see any signs of trouble. “What led you to believe there was a domestic dispute.”

“She was screaming, he was hurting her, but she’s stopped now, it was so awful.”

Mark walked up the old cement path that cut through the overgrown front lawn. He knocked on the door, a practised loud, firm knock. There was no answer. He knocked again.

“There’s blood on the floor,” Claire said, as she shone her torch through the front window. “A lot of it.”

“We need to get in there.” He lined up the door. Right next to the handle was the sweet spot. He kicked with as much force as he could. The door swung open violently. He’d never gotten to do that before. He bet it looked cool. “Police, don’t move,” he yelled into the gapping darkness. His torch out, he moved through the cramped entrance hall into the lounge room. Mark found the splatters of blood, someone had been severely wounded. He followed the blood into the next room.

Mark scanned the room with his torch, A man huddled over a woman on the floor of a small kitchen. Blood covered the tiles. The man pulled innards from a gaping wound in her stomach, a wet ripping noise. He pulled ropey intestines to his mouth and ripped at them with his teeth. The woman’s pale face stained with tears, her eyes blank.

“Police. Don’t move,” he said, his voice firm and calm.

The man slowly turned his head, the viscera he chewed forgotten in his slack jaw. He stumbled to his feet, his movements jerky. Blood dribbled from his mouth, gore covered his front. His dull eyes stared in their direction, no emotion as blank as his victims. This guy was on a whole cocktail of contraband.

“Hands up,” he yelled.

The words triggered something in him. He ran at them.

“Get back,” Claire yelled. She drew her taser and fired. The man’s muscles seized. He didn’t fall. He barely reacted as his muscles spasmed. The stuff he was on really had him warped. Five seconds and the taser stopped pulsing. He came at them.

Claire dropped her used taser and drew her gun.

“No, we take him in,” Mark said. He ran at the man and slammed into him, knocking him to the ground. “This bastard deserves to rot.”

Mark put his knee in the man’s back as he struggled to pin the flailing man. Claire was there a second later. She put weight on his shoulders. He squirmed underneath them. Mark beat at the man’s arm with his fist as he forced the hands together. Claire screamed in pain. “The bastard bit me,” she said. Mark gave the man a few heavy knees into his side. He slammed cuffs on to the man’s wrists, closing them harder than necessary.

“I’ve got him,” Mark said, breathing heavy. “You check the woman.”

She got up and Mark moved his weight to pin the man. He heard Claire gag. A splatter of vomit hit the tiles. “She’s dead.”

Mark readied his radio. “Reporting Code 69 at Ascot Vale job, suspect apprehended. Send an ambulance,” he said. The man writhed and moaned. Mark gave him a swift kick to the gut. He searched the man, no weapons, but he found a wallet. 

“How you doing, kiddo?” he said, and noticed her leg, the wound deep and bleeding. “How’s the bite?”

“Nah, it’s nothing,” she said. She grabbed a dishcloth off the kitchen bench and put pressure on the wound.

“Get the ambos to check it when they get here,” he said, “bites are nasty, they get infected.”

The man moaned, hoarse and low. He sounded like an injured animal. He thrashed against his bonds. The man didn’t tire. “Would you shut the fuck up,” Mark yelled at the man.

Mark checked the wallet. Daniel Wilson.

“Mr Wilson, you’re under arrest for murder. Anything you say can and will be used against you in court. Do you understand?” Mark said. The man snarled and snapped his teeth at Mark’s leg. “We need to stop this fucker biting. Take over here for a sec.” 

Claire took position, pinning the man. Mark checked the kitchen draws. Some electrical tape, that would do.

“What do you think he’s on?” she asked.

“It might be that bath salts shit.” Mark said, as he taped the man’s mouth up.

Sirens blared not far off as they took him out the front door. Mark had the feral man controlled and kept him moving. He put the man into the bar seat of the police car. Mark gave a quick push to knock the man’s head as he forced him in. 

Lights lit the street in red and blue as the Ambulance pulled up.


End file.
